But at this moment a figure came rushing through the snow towards the kitchen door.

“Here she is now; now, ole ’oman! get de gruel ready!” exclaimed Jovial, as the snow-covered form rushed in.  “No, it aint, nyther!  Miss Hannah!  My goodness, gracious me alibe, is all de worl’ gone ravin’, starin’, ’stracted mad to-night?  What de debil fotch you out in de storm at midnight?” he asked, as Hannah Worth threw off her shawl and stood in their midst.

“Oh, Jovial!  I am looking for poor Nora!  Have you seen anything of her?” asked Hannah anxiously.

“She was here a-sittin’ by dat fire, not half an hour ago.  And I lef her to go and fetch my ole ’oman to get somefin hot, and when I come back, jes’ dis wery minute, she’s gone!”

“Where, where did she go?” asked Hannah, clasping hear hands in the agony of her anxiety.

“Out o’ doors, I see by her little foot-prints a-leading away from de door; dough I ‘spects dey’s filled up by dis time.  I was jes’ agwine out to look for her.”

“Oh, bless you, Jovial!”

“Which way do you think she went, Miss Hannah?”

“Home again, I suppose, poor child.”

“It’s a wonder you hadn’t met her.”

“The night is so dark, and then you know there is more than one path leading from Brudenell down into the valley.  And if she went that way she took a different path from the one I came by.”

“I go look for her now!  I won’t lose no more time talkin’,” and the old man clapped his hat upon his head and picked up his lantern.

“I will go with you, Jovial,” said Nora’s sister.

“No, Miss Hannah, don’t you ’tempt it; tain’t no night for no ’oman to be out.”

“And dat a fact, Miss Hannah! don’t you go!  I can’t ’mit of it!  You stay here long o’ me till my ole man fines her and brings her back here; an’ I’ll have a bit of supper ready, an’ you’ll both stop wid us all night,” suggested Dinah.

“I thank you both, but I cannot keep still while Nora is in danger!  I must help in the search for her,” insisted Hannah, with the obstinacy of a loving heart, as she wrapped her shawl more closely around her shoulders and followed the old man out in the midnight storm.  It was still snowing very fast.  Her guide went a step in front with the lantern, throwing a feeble light upon the soft white path that seemed to sink under their feet as they walked.  The old man peered about on the right and left and straight before him, so as to miss no object in his way that might be Nora.

“Jovial,” said Hannah, as they crept along, “is it true about the young foreign lady that arrived here last night and turned out to be the wife of Mr. Herman?”

“All as true as gospel, honey,” replied the old man, who, in his love of gossip, immediately related to Hannah all the particulars of the arrival of Lady Hurstmonceux and the flight of Herman Brudenell.  “Seems like he run away at the sight of his wife, honey; and ’pears like she thinks so too, ‘cause she’s taken of it sorely to heart, scarce’ holdin’ up her head since.  And it is a pity for her, too, poor young thing; for she’s a sweet perty young cre’tur’, and took Miss Nora’s part like an angel when de old madam was a-callin’ of her names, and orderin’ of her out’n de house.”